It started with a sound Eve didn’t recognise at first.
Not the doorbell.
Not the gate.
Not Marlene’s careful steps moving through the kitchen.
This was louder, heavier, wrong in a way her body understood before her mind could label it.
A crash.
A muffled shout.
Then the house went still for one beat, like it was holding its breath.
Eve’s hand flew to her belly instinctively as she sat up on the sofa. She had been trying to settle her nausea with dry biscuits, trying to convince herself the tight feeling in her chest was just anxiety and not a warning.
Marlene had left after lunch.
It was just Eve and the house.
And now the house sounded like it had been invaded.
“Hello?” Eve called, her voice shaking.
No answer.
Then footsteps, fast, too many, not belonging.
Eve’s heart slam
